She watches the cigarette smoke as it slowly vanishes in the wind. It takes a while for it to disappear, it almost looks like it's fighting to stay visible, but then finally it's gone.
How old is she? Fourteen? She feels older than that. She feels really fucking old, older than everyone else. She likes to think that she is so old that she's dead and that she is just a ghost. She walks around, observing people, but they can't see her, obviously, because she's dead and she's a ghost.
Observe.
She likes that word.
Observe.
She enjoys that, observing. Studying other people, trying to figure out what they think and feel. She doesn't say anything, Effy Stonem hasn't uttered a word for many months now, but she sees a lot.
She doesn't really know why she stopped speaking in the first place. She can't even remember exactly when her days of silence began. It wasn't something that she had planned beforehand, it just happened. And since no one questioned it, she continued to live her life like that, silent.
Effy doesn't need to speak. Speech is overrated. And unnecessary. You don't actually need it, you think you do but you really don't. If people would just shut their fucking mouths, the world would become a much better place.
She exhales a little cloud of smoke. Another thing she likes about the thought of being a ghost is that she could just dissolve whenever she wanted, just like the smoke. That would be kind of nice actually, to be able to just turn into nothing if the world was being too fucked up to handle.
She wonders what it would be like to be nothing as she watches the smoke rise upwards. But of course, Effy is pretty much nothing already. She is pretty much a ghost. She is pretty much dead. But she can't disappear, she can't fade away like the smoke. It doesn't matter how much she tries, people can still see her. And that's fucking annoying.
That's. Really. Fucking. Annoying.
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